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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499397">Hawkeye's Home for Traumatized Avengers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart'>breatheforeverypart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hawkeye &amp; The Barton Family [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ASL, American Sign Language, Anorexia, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Dissociation, Eating Disorders, Everyone needs a vacation, Gen, Medical Procedures, NG tubing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PNES, Protective Bucky Barnes, Psychogenic Non Epileptic seizures, Team as Family, Trauma triggers, hinting at Bruce Banner's severe dissociative issues, natasha definately has an eating disorder, slight medical gore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:27:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hi!  This multi-chapter fic is my homage to the Bartons welcoming a variety of friends and strangers to their farm.  Clint has brought Natasha home before, she has a very close relationship with Laura.  In this AU, Laura and Clint have adopted Jemma, Fitz and Skye.  Lila is their biological child.  At this time, Laura is pregnant with another child.  </p><p>After a difficult night at the Tower, Clint decides to pack up Natasha, Bucky, Banner, Steve and Wanda for a therapeutic trip to his farm.  This fic does reference some of Nat's eating disorder issues that I've written about more in 'Seven Devils' and 'Neurological Storms'.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Avengers as family - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hawkeye &amp; The Barton Family [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Change is Coming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello friends, </p><p>I have edited the first chapter after re-evaluating how I portrayed the use of American Sign Language, a language I have great respect for and use in daily.  Please let me know of any additional tags that should be added to this fic.  I hope that you enjoy.  Please stay safe and continue to self-isolate for the health of all.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***<br/>3:52 AM – Communal Kitchen at Stark Tower </p><p>Bruce’s hands shook as he went through what was quickly becoming his nightly routine.  His head pounded.  This latest mission reinforced why he had withdrawn from active duty in recent months.  </p><p>He rubbed the back of his neck, acutely aware of how frenzied his muscles felt, torn between the Hulk’s body and his own.  </p><p>He halfheartedly dunked a tea bag and drifted from thought to thought.  </p><p>A thump from the Common Room pulled his attention back to the present.  The Hulk growled and the scientist felt his body tremor with anxiety.  </p><p>“Hey?”  He cleared his throat and a figure stumbled into the low lighting of the kitchen.  </p><p>Skeletal was the first word that popped into his head.  He hadn’t known it was this bad.  In the weeks that Claire had been treating her, she seemed better.  Sure, he had not seen her alone.  Bucky and Clint were always there.  They surrounded her, never left her alone.  He hadn’t wanted to pry.  </p><p>“Nat, hey.”  She continued her path and bumped into the counter.  “You okay?”  A trickle of blood dripped from her nose.  Natasha wrapped what looked like a piece of medical tubing around her hand before closing it into a fist.  </p><p>Bruce held both of his hands in front of himself, fully aware of the green that flashed across his skin in defense.  She ground her jaw and raised her hands to defend herself.  </p><p>“Natasha.  It’s me, Bruce.”  He took half a step back, aware that she could render him unconscious in hundreds of ways before he could blink an eye.  </p><p>“Nyet.  You will not take any more of my mind.”  She charged him, the fist wrapped in tubing striking his jaw.  </p><p>A wave of anger threatened his ability to think.  No, he needed to breathe.  To think.  He forced air into his lungs.  “Tasha, look around.  What do you see?”  </p><p>The Hulk roared at him, every cell in his body crackled with energy.  He was vaguely aware of his hand, tinged green holding his friend’s wrist firm against his body.   </p><p>Natasha yanked herself away from the scientist and hit the refrigerator.  She gasped and held her left side.  </p><p>Banner realized she was in pain, she never admitted to that when she was cognizant.  Memories flashed before him as he watched her curl her arm protectively around her abdomen. </p><p>***<br/>3 Years Ago – Stark Tower </p><p>“Come on, Nat.”  He stood with his arms crossed in the doorway.  He felt bile at the back of his throat.  A memory tugged at his brain and he clenched his hands into fists, bargaining with himself to stay in control.  </p><p>Stubbornly she tucked her hair behind her ear and stood tall, well as tall as she could with an obviously broken fibula bone.  “Make me.”  She countered, swaying slightly.  </p><p>“Seriously?”  Banner groaned.  “Please let me see it.”  From here, he could see at least eight injuries Barton had omitted from the mission report.  Scalp laceration, broken nose, probable broken ribs.  Fortunately, he had called Laura and she’d made him go to the med floor for treatment.  One down, one to go.  </p><p>“No med floor.”  Natasha consented, dangerously off balance, not bothering to hide the fact she was standing on one leg.  </p><p>He threw up his hands “Fine, fine, just sit down.”  </p><p>She glared at him, before closing her eyes and mumbling.  </p><p>Banner cautiously took a step towards her, “Warn me if you’re gonna throw up.”  Romanoff mumbled again.  “What?”  </p><p>“I need…help.”  She mumbled.  “Fuck.”  Natasha pitched forward.  </p><p>Bruce caught her around her waist and quickly lowered her to the floor.  “Anything else you want to tell me?”  </p><p>She flipped him off and closed her eyes again.  </p><p>Smirking Bruce began to stabilize the fracture, wondering how he got drafted as the caretaker anyway.  </p><p>***</p><p>4:22 AM – Communal Kitchen at Stark Tower </p><p>Natasha was curled against the base of the freezer, twisting that damn tubing.  Her eyes darted around the room, seeking out exits and threats.  </p><p>Another memory surfaced, one he’d tried to bury from childhood.  He remembered being wet, soaked with fear and urine.  Watching his mother dying, again, because of him.  </p><p>Bruce’s mind existed somewhere above his body.  He watched as the body knelt curled along the floor, matching Natasha’s panicking form.  </p><p>Words were too challenging, breathing hurt.  Pain washed over his mind and body in waves, fading in and out of memories.    </p><p>Bruce blinked.  He could see a finger touching his own.  Flinching, he pulled away, panic rising in his throat.  He faded, numbness flooding his senses.  </p><p>***</p><p>Natasha studied the man, his face familiar.  Was he a mark?  A comrade?  A test?  The floor felt cold under her cheek.  Cracked ribs, weak.  She was useless.  Think Natalia, think.  The man moaned, tears tracking his face.</p><p>“No, please.  Mama.  Please stop.  No.”  His hand reached and without a thought, her fingers met one of his.   An action that was both a question and an offering.  </p><p>Her thoughts matched her frantic heartbeat.  How to escape?  The handlers would be back.  Natasha’s attention shifted to the man beside her.  He had grabbed her hand, and was holding it as tightly as a toddler would.  Terrified to be left alone.  </p><p>“Mama.  Hurts.”  His face contorted in pain and Natasha found herself aching.  An impulse to cry overwhelmed her, and she frowned.  Widows do not feel, they do not want.  Black Widows are weapons.  </p><p>But this man, he knew her.  How she didn’t know, there was so much she didn’t know.  Yet, he squeezed her hand and she could not deny the connection she felt to him.  Her training screamed at her, directions bleeding in her skull to not have attachments.  Still, she held his fingers tightly.    </p><p>***<br/>4:47 AM – Natasha’s Quarters </p><p>Where did the warm go?  Barton thought blearily as he turned his face away from the sudden chill.  </p><p>Someone was talking above him.  Cold metal grabbed his shoulder.  The archer reacted, his defenses automatic after years at S.H.I.E.L.D.  </p><p>The man who had the business end of Clint’s favorite knife pressed against his neck cocked his head at him.  Waiting.  He slowly brought his hands near his face and began signing.  Oh.  He realized, sleep receding from his brain.  Bucky.  </p><p>Dropping the knife on his pillow, Clint signed wait, yawned and shoved his hearing aids into place.  </p><p>“What’s up?”  His hands moved automatically.  </p><p>Bucky raked a hand though his hair and frowned.  He signed back, noticeably more confident with his ASL skills.  “Couldn’t sleep, came to check in and Nat’s not here.”  </p><p>“She’s not with you?”  Barton responded.  He popped a couple vertebrae in his back, anxiety starting to prickle his senses.  </p><p>Barnes rolled his eyes.  “No shit.”  He threw a pair of pants at the archer and walked towards the door.  </p><p>Both men noted the droplets of blood that doted the floor of the Common Room.  Clint noted the mug on the counter and the now cooled tea kettle resting on the stovetop.    </p><p>Bucky nodded at him and began to edge around the counter.  He voiced, clenching his hands into fists at his side.  “Banner’s here with her.”  He sounded confused.  “Call Stark.”  </p><p>Once Clint confirmed Tony was on his way with the creepy AI system, he lowered himself to the floor and assessed the situation.  </p><p>Bad.  It didn’t take Sherlock level detective skills to deduce.  He had spent enough nights awake, roaming the vents to know that when Bruce was making a tea at 3am it was not on a whim.  Great.  The Big Guy was triggered, Nat had dissociated to a past life, and the NG tube was out.  He winced, noting the blood drying on her face.  </p><p>Natasha had fallen asleep, her hands interlocked around one of Bruce’s.  A sob caught in his throat as he noted the scientist’s thumb hanging loosely in his mouth.  His face was streaked with drying tears.  The resemblance to his children as babies, hurt and confused, was uncanny.  </p><p>“Do we wake them?”  Barnes asked.  He looked vaguely unsettled as he stood a good few feet away from the scientist.  </p><p>The incident in Vietnam a couple months ago was still fresh in his mind.  He’d accidently triggered the Hulk and spent the better part of an hour avoiding being squashed by various pieces of wreckage that the Big Guy chucked at him. </p><p>Clint shrugged, resisting an impulse to push Natasha’s hair away from her face.  Even in sleep, her breathing was shallow and she was clearly protecting her left side.  Bruised ribs, he guessed.  </p><p>Tony’s footsteps pounded into the Common Room.  He embodied the very qualities that would disqualify a person from working at S.H.I.E.L.D.  “Where?”  He asked, trying to keep the fear out his voice.  </p><p>Barton startled slightly, his aids whining at Iron Man’s heavy steps.  “We’re not sure what triggered them, but they’re asleep now.”  </p><p>Tony scanned his friend’s body with his tablet and sighed.  “Some bruising, but no major damage.”  </p><p>Clint noted the beginnings of a nasty bruise on Banner’s jaw.  Nat had been trying to protect herself from a ghost.  He and Bucky had known the NG tube would be triggering, but this was the fourth time she had managed to remove it over the past week.  The last time she had begged them to stop, to just kill her instead.  He had almost pulled it out himself.  He wouldn’t let her suffer again.  </p><p>Wanda had assigned herself the role of protector after Barnes sedated her with one of the emergency meds Temple left.  She watched over Natasha and sang lullabies in languages he didn’t understand until an uneasy sleep claimed him again.  </p><p>Natasha stirred, blinking in the fluorescent lighting.  She struggled to push herself into a sitting position.  </p><p>Clint reached for her carefully.  “Lyublyu eto khorosho.”  (Love, it’s alright.)  He hoped his Russian was intelligible.    He repeated the sentence in ASL, trying to get her attention.  </p><p>She nodded, still holding Bruce’s hand.  The scientist began to wake, sniffling and dragging his free hand across his eyes.  </p><p>Natasha signed back.  “Where?  When?”  </p><p>“Stark’s Tower.” Tony’s name sign brought a flicker of recognition to her face.  </p><p>“We’re safe?”  She questioned, nodding slowly.  “Real?”  Her hand moved again and again, seeking confirmation that this wasn’t a trick.  Or a nightmare.  </p><p>Relieved Bucky moved away from the scientist, confident Stark could handle his friend.  Clint and Natasha signed back and forth, her breathing stable for the moment.  She had the removed the tube again, and Bucky couldn’t say he was surprised.  He had his fair share of meltdowns related to medical intervention since being de-programmed.  </p><p>He couldn’t remember all of the ways Steve had grounded him the last time she tried to rip the tube out.   Clint had broken down, unable to stomach Nat begging for death.  He had managed to sedate her before he started to lose sensation in his fingers and toes.  A sure sign of an impending seizure.  Steve half carrying him to their room barely registered before he hit the floor, losing whatever had been in his stomach.  </p><p>“Bucky.”  Natasha signed, his sign name catching his attention.  Once he had her consent, he gathered her in his arms, trying not to jostle her ribs any more than necessary.  She weighed so little, he could barely register her body against his prosthetic arm.  </p><p>She tugged at his hair, then signed “Can we go to Clint’s room?”  He nodded and turned to Barton.  The archer pressed his head to Natasha’s and murmured something he couldn’t hear.  </p><p>“I’ll meet you there, I’m just gonna help the big guy.”  Clint voiced to Tony before gently squeezing Bucky’s shoulder.  </p><p>***</p><p>5:36 AM – Bruce’s Quarters </p><p>Sighing into the hand towel, Clint rubbed his face vigorously.  From the bathroom, he could see Banner curled on bed.  Tony sat on the edge of the mattress, his hand hovering just above the scientist’s back.  </p><p>The process of moving Banner back to his residential floor had been more difficult than he had anticipated.  Whatever he was remembering, haunted and consumed him.   </p><p>Barton was not a man of science.  He was smart, but in an unconventional kind of way.  He didn’t like visiting the labs.  It reminded him too much of the medical floor.  Despite the fact they did not usually speak to each other casually, Clint had noticed certain behaviors the scientist had.  Mannerisms that were indicative of an abusive childhood.  </p><p>“Tony?”  He handed him a small blanket from an arm chair.  Stark appeared caught between wanting to parent the scientist and have his own breakdown.  Either that or down a bottle of Scotch.  </p><p>The inventor murmured his thanks and kicked off his shoes.  </p><p>“Call me if you need anything.”  Barton offered, not wanting to leave the two alone.  </p><p>Stark laughed harshly.  “I’d say you too, but you and Barnes are the experts.”  </p><p>“Not even close Tony.”  Clint pinched the bridge of his nose.  “None of this comes naturally.  Talk to him in the morning and you’ll start to figure out ways to deal with it.”  </p><p>Blowing out a breath, he nodded.  “I think I should hire a team of therapists.”  </p><p>“That might not be a bad idea.”  Clint snorted.  “I can help with the background checks.”  He was half-kidding.  S.H.I.E.L.D. had mandated psych exams and counseling, but he rarely took it seriously.  It was only after Natasha had started hurting herself that he began trying.  He taught himself strategies and learned frameworks of counseling.  </p><p>Tony pulled out his tablet, opening various documents and apps.  He talked to himself, lost in this idea.  </p><p> With one last look at the scientist curled into the fetal position, Clint draped the blanket over Tony’s shoulders and let the door close behind him.  </p><p>He casually took a running leap at the nearest wall and used it to catapult himself into the ceiling.  Pepper had given up on replacing the ceiling tiles sometime last year, which was nice.  </p><p>***<br/>5:57 AM – Air Ventilation System – 7th Nest </p><p>His pocket vibrated and Clint accepted the call.  “Hey Claire.”  </p><p>“Barnes called.  Want me to come over?”  No pretext, he liked that.  His chest contracted painfully and he made a note to call Laura as soon as he hung up.  </p><p>“Not tonight.”  He stroked a picture Lila had colored for him last week.  “She can’t do this anymore.”  </p><p>Claire sighed.  “I know.”  </p><p>Clint couldn’t prevent the sobs.  “I won't do this to her.  What's next?”  </p><p>“She needs help Barton.  She needs to feel safe, maybe a program?”  She ventured, knowing her words were difficult to hear.  </p><p>He shook his head and took a deep breath.  “No.  She won’t.”  </p><p>The nurse agreed.  “Yeah, but she still needs to start participating in the feedings.”  </p><p>The adrenaline that had sustained him for the past couple of hours disappeared and suddenly he was exhausted.  He agreed to call Temple once Nat woke and ended the call.  He pocketed his hearing aids and sighed in contentment at his ‘naked’ ears.  </p><p>“Baby?”  Laura answered, yawning in to the camera.  </p><p>He opened his mouth to speak, but found he had no words.  Shaking his head, he laid down in the vent, propping the phone up under his daughter’s art.  </p><p>“Bring them home love.”  She lifted a hand to the phone, signing emphatically.  “Come home to us.”  </p><p>He nodded and let himself believe everything would be okay. This half-assed plan was blessed by his wife, so the rest would come together. First coffee, then more planning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Six Avengers, One Confined Space</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hiya.  In this chapter we see how Clint convinced his co-workers to accompany him upstate.  We also meet his family.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***<br/>
2:36 PM – Highway in New York State, US</p><p>“Anyone have to pee?”  Clint studied the rearview mirror.  Avengers in varying degrees of discomfort glared back at him.  </p><p>Natasha, who was leaned against the passenger seat window flipped him off and continued to feign sleep.  Her nutrition shake sat ignored in the cupholder between them.  </p><p>Directly behind her Barnes cursed as the stitch escaped his hook and he pulled more yarn from a canvas tote with “Keep Calm and Fuck Off” stamped in loopy script.  </p><p>Bruce adjusted his seat himself behind Clint and offered him a thumbs up.  He was concentrating on whatever was being pumped through fancy headphones Stark himself manufactured.  Speaking of the Iron Man, Tony assured him that he and Pepper would ready to meet them in a few days.  </p><p>Steve and Wanda took the back row.  Red tendrils of magic delivered a tissue to Rogers who was on the verge of tears.  </p><p>The archer caught the title of the book Captain America was reading and nodded in sympathy.  “Rogers, John Green is way too intense to start a vacation with.”  </p><p>Rogers nodded and accepted the tissue.  “Got anything lighter?”  He was taking Sam’s list of pop culture movements seriously, and had packed a couple books to catch himself up on.  Last week he had devoured all of the Harry Potter series.  </p><p>“Try this.”  Banner produced all ten volumes of a popular fantasy series from the duffel bag at his feet.  </p><p>“Impressive.”  Bucky snorted, successfully ending a row in what he hoped would be a scarf.  Sam had introduced him to the art of crocheting and he had taken to the craft like Steve did to reading.  It was endearing.  Clint kept those comments to himself after Bucky’s crochet hook had nearly stabbed him during a movie night, but progress was progress.  </p><p>“Okay.  We should get there just in time for dinner.”  He smiled to himself as he changed lanes.  </p><p>***<br/>
Earlier that Day - 9:28 AM – Hallway Outside Natasha’s Quarters </p><p>“I understand Claire.”  </p><p>The nurse sighed and handed over special med pack Clint had requested.  “Call me every day.  I mean it, if I don’t hear from either of you.”  She pointed at Bucky threateningly.  “I will drive my ass upstate and interrupt this vacation.”  </p><p>Barton raised his hands in surrender.  “I’m married to an ER nurse.  I know what’s at stake here.”  </p><p>Bucky nodded solemnly.  “Will do Claire.  Thanks for the supplies.”  </p><p>“3 shakes a day.  Plus, all the liquids she can tolerate.  Not negotiable.  If she can’t, you have to re-consider a tube placement or a residential program.”  Claire glanced at the room, Natasha was shuffling around slowly packing.  </p><p>Clint hoped to hell this plan worked.  He knew it was risky, especially for Nat.  </p><p>The pair thanked Claire again.  She saluted them on her way to the elevator.  “Good luck.  Call me!”  She added as the doors closed.  </p><p>Bucky exhaled and looked at Clint.  “You sure about this?”  </p><p>He had been groggy when Barton had barged into the bedroom a little after 6 am.  The archer jittery on caffeine and a half-assed plan.  </p><p>Running had always made sense to him, even before the War and all the shit that happened after.  He could understand Clint’s impulse to scoop Nat up and take her anywhere, literally anywhere else to try to save her from herself.  </p><p>He also knew that ignoring issues only led to problems.  Hell, his seizure disorder was a manifestation of his own un-resolved trauma.  Yet, if he could support this new chosen family who had accepted his history, he would certainly try.  Steve had expressed his own concerns about this trip after Clint explained what he wanted to do.  </p><p>Changes in routine could be a huge trigger for him.  The last thing Bucky wanted to happen was for one of Barton’s kids to scream and trigger an episode.  But he would bring his yarn, headphones and Stevie.  This was not a mission, or a punishment.  </p><p>“Yeah.  I think it’ll help.”  Clint swallowed, looking like he was convincing himself.  </p><p>Hitching the specialized med pack on what he called his ‘original’ shoulder he patted Clint’s back in what he hoped was an encouraging gesture.  </p><p>“Come on Barton, time to pack.”  They headed back into Natasha’s room.  “Tell me about this family of yours.”  </p><p>Nat perked up, even though she was currently catching her breath.  Clint helped her to sit on the edge of her bed.  “Well, this idiot married an amazing woman.  Laura.”  She smiled.  </p><p>“I mean, she’s stuck with me now.”  Clint grinned, ruffling Natasha’s hair.  </p><p>She threw a shirt at him and addressed Bucky.  “They had Lila a couple years ago, she’s 3 and a half.  Skye, Jemma and Fitz are adopted.”  </p><p>Bucky shook his head in disbelief.  “That many?”  </p><p>Clint nodded sheepishly.  “One more on the way.”  </p><p>Natasha attempted a wolf-whistle and accepted Bucky’s hand in standing.  She swayed on her feet, leaning heavily into Bucky’s side.  </p><p>“Hey doll, how about some water?”  </p><p>After a pause, she nodded.  </p><p>***</p><p>“Knock, knock!”  Steve announced, rapping the doorframe lightly.  </p><p>Bruce slid his suitcase off the bed.  It thudded to the floor.  Steve stared at the bag.  </p><p>“It’s mostly books.”  He shrugged.  </p><p>“Tony told me that they can fit a lot of books on this small computer thing.”  Rogers extracted a tablet from his pocket.  </p><p>Bruce waved him off.  “I like the real ones.  Paper feels ah, grounding.”  He fumbled around the therapeutic word, feeling strange to use these terms in relation to himself.  </p><p>“Ready to go?”  a voice asked from somewhere behind Steve.  The young witch held a large food container, nearly as big as her entire backpack she was wearing.  </p><p>Steve smiled at her.  “Wanda! What did you make?”  </p><p>“Pierogis.”  She blushed.</p><p>Bruce desired nothing more in that moment then to disappear.  He knew that she felt his nightmares.  Wanda had explained that she could not always control her powers when she was asleep, she was often pulled into Barnes’ nightmares.  The fact that she knew anything he had lived through as a child was humiliating.  He pulled on his headphones and waved awkwardly as he dragged his suitcase past his teammates.  </p><p>***</p><p>4:52 PM – Rural Road Unspecified – Upstate New York, US</p><p>“Nat?”  His voice rose above the radio enough that she startled.  She turned towards Clint, still holding her knees to her chin.  </p><p>Maintaining the wheel, he offered a hand.  “Can you call Laura and tell her we’ll be there in about a half hour?”  She returned his squeeze, aware that he had casually put their hands on the disgusting nutrition drink.  </p><p>Biting back a remark, she nodded.  Unscrewing the cap, she tipped a bit of the liquid into her mouth.  Swallowing, she shuddered and was rewarded by Clint’s phone landing in her lap.  </p><p>“Laura?”  </p><p>“Nat!  Hi, one sec.”   A child screeched and the volume of a TV decreased drastically.  “Hey love.”  </p><p>Natasha felt warm in her chest.  “Hiya.”  She felt suddenly shy.  </p><p>The woman on the phone groaned.  “Don’t tell me you guys are almost here.  I accidentally took a nap, I’m still cleaning.”  </p><p>She chuckled.  “You’ve got a half hour or so.”  She glanced at Clint.  The bastard set her up, he knew Laura always broke through her barriers.  </p><p>“Okay.  Dinner’s gonna be vegetarian lasagna.  I started making it when Clint told me you were coming home.”  </p><p>The warm feeling in Natasha’s chest bloomed and she flushed.  “Home.”  She repeated.  </p><p>“Tell Clint, I’ve got meat-lovers baked ziti too.  Jemma’s been in the kitchen all day.  I don’t know what she’s got planned for dessert, but there’s that too.  Oh no, Fitz is doing something to the washing machine.”  </p><p>“Go, go.”  Nat urged.  “See you soon Laura.”  </p><p>She barely tasted the rest of the shake, even though the contents lay heavy in her stomach.  </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>5:46 PM – The Barton Farm – Upstate New York, US</p><p>“Mum!”  Three pairs of feet thundered into the kitchen, shoes squeaking on the nearly-clean floor.  “Mommy, Daddy and his friends are here.”  </p><p>Lila continued to run, throwing out her hands towards Laura’s baby bump.  “Baby!!!  Daddy home.”  The baby in question turned, finally moving off of her bladder for the first time in what seemed like weeks.  </p><p>She set the oven to 'warm'.  “Okay monsters, let’s go get ‘em.”  Lila pulled her hand from her stomach and led the parade outside.  </p><p>Fitz began pulling Jemma towards the toolbox on the porch.  “Mum?”  She questioned, fidgeting with her necklace.  </p><p>“It’s okay love, maybe he can help you fix the clock for the guest room?”  Her daughter nodded, keeping half her attention on the strange adults exiting the minivan that was parked haphazardly in their driveway.  </p><p>Clint emerged from the trunk with his usual raggedy duffel.  “Hey!”  He waved.  </p><p>Suddenly shy, their almost four-year-old reached for Laura to pick her up.  Settling her on her hip, she met her husband at the minivan.  </p><p>“Hey Laur.”  He smiled crookedly.<br/>
She passed him a wiggling Lila and pressed a kiss to his lips.  “Hi yourself.”  </p><p>His eyes traveled to her stomach, the bump rounder than it had been a couple of weeks ago.  </p><p>“Hiiii.”  Lila poked her Mom’s stomach.  </p><p>Laura rolled her eyes.  “Skye taught her and Fitz that their new brother or sister is learning all kinds of things in there.”  </p><p>Laughing, Clint rubbed Laura’s back.  “Where’s our smart girl?”  </p><p>Laura pointed to the pasture behind the barn.  “With the horses, I’d bet.”  </p><p>He nodded, setting Lila down.  “Jems!  Fitz!”  He winked at her, practically flying up the steps to the porch.  Fitz handed him a spring and continued tinkering with the inner mechanisms of the clock.  Jemma shyly patted his head.  </p><p>Laura straightened her back, trying to alleviate the pressure on her spine.  “Nat!”  She brightened, one hand on her back.  </p><p>She enveloped her friend in a hug.  “We’ve missed you darlin’.  Who’d you bring?”  </p><p>***</p><p>“Thanks Rogers.”  Clint added the last chair to their mismatched table.  Thanks to creative problem solving, they had managed to extend their usual table to accommodate six Avengers and his own brood.  </p><p>“Anytime.”  Steve glanced into the living room.  “Have you seen Buck?”  He asked, worry etching his face.  </p><p>Laura handed him a stack of plates.  “I asked Nat and Wanda to take him out to the barn.  Skye’s taking care of the horses.”  </p><p>Steve forced himself to relax, everything was fine.  “Thanks Mrs. Barton.”  </p><p>She laughed.  “Please call me Laura.  Can I get you anything to drink?”  </p><p>Steve flushed with embarrassment.  “Sure, thank you.”  </p><p>“There’s lemonade.”  A girl piped up from behind a ceramic pitcher.  Her accent was familiar.  British?  </p><p>Her nodded and finished distributing the plates.  “What’s your name?”  </p><p>“Jemma.”  She handed him a glass.  A boy snuck a glance at him from his hiding place behind the girl.  “This is my brother Fitz.”  </p><p>Fitz pulled at his sister’s shirt.  She turned and signed to him.  He blinked before disappearing into the kitchen.  </p><p>“Is he deaf?”  Bruce cleared his throat, leaning awkwardly on a chair.  </p><p>Laura handed Fitz a variety of silverware, gently nudging him towards the table.  “No.”  </p><p>Steve backed away as Jemma placed herself in front of the scientist.  “He’s very smart!”<br/>
Her face flushed with anger.  “Fitz is the best at fixing.  He doesn’t have to talk.”  </p><p>Clint knelt in between them.  “Easy Jems.  Let’s take 5.”  She took his hand and stomped upstairs, Clint murmuring a step behind his daughter.  </p><p>Laura directed Fitz to the living room where Lila was already coloring at a diminutive craft table.  “Dr. Banner?”  She asked, pointing to a seat at the table.  </p><p>“Bruce, please.”  He offered, pulling a chair away from the table.  “I’m sorry that I offended.”  </p><p>“No, no you didn’t.”  Laura patted his hand.  “I’m beginning to think that Clint didn’t tell you anything about our family.”  </p><p>Banner and Steve looked at each other awkwardly.  </p><p>Laura chuckled.  </p><p>As she handed them various dishes to set on the table, Laura explained what Clint had failed to communicate.  </p><p>“Jemma and Fitz needed a home, and as you can see we quickly fell in love.  They were en route from the UK, a relative was supposed to care from them, but couldn’t.  Jemma has been through a lot, well, both of them have really.”  </p><p>She paused.  “Jemma’s a fierce advocate for her brother.”  </p><p>Bruce retrieved the lasagna from the oven.  “Is Fitz on the spectrum?”  </p><p>Laura nodded.  “He loves engineering, Jemma’s teaching him how to fix things on the farm when Daddy’s away.”  </p><p>“Reminds me of you and Tony.”  Steve called from the table.<br/>
Bruce couldn’t stop himself from staring at Laura.  He didn’t know anyone could be this accepting.  Barton’s family did not feel possible.  </p><p>“We had Lila three and a half years ago.”  She patted her growing bump.  “This one’s due in about three and a half months.”  </p><p>Natasha breezed into the kitchen, snaking her arms around Laura.  “I can’t wait to hold him.”  </p><p>Quirking an eyebrow Laura squeezed Natasha’s arm.  “Do you know something I don’t?”  </p><p>“Just a feeling.”  She nuzzled into Laura’s neck.  Barnes stood by the front door next to a skinny teenaged girl with dark hair.  </p><p>“Oh!  Skye.”  Laura signed quickly to her oldest daughter.  “Can you please get Dad and Jemma?  Dinner’s ready.”  </p><p>The teenager’s hands blurred and she darted upstairs, her steps as light as the Widow’s.  </p><p>Steve and Bruce blinked at the interaction, dumbfounded.  </p><p>Bucky took a seat at the table.  “Laura, dinner smells amazing.  Skye told me about your famous lasagna.  Thank you for having us.  I would be honored to be on clean-up duty.”  </p><p>“What?”  Steve turned to his boyfriend.  </p><p>Bucky shrugged.  “It’s the least I can do.”  Bruce stared at him.  “Oh, that.  I’ve been practicing my ASL.  Clint’s been teaching me.”  </p><p>Natasha offered him a high-five before she turned to Rogers and Banner.  “Skye’s Deaf.  We use a lot of ASL around here.”  </p><p>Laura passed Lila to Natasha and settled Fitz in the seat next to her.  Wanda started handing out napkins, she appeared desperate to make herself useful.  </p><p>Clint bounded downstairs like a puppy.  “Let’s eat!”  He pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek and found an open seat.  Skye perched on her chair, with one leg tucked under her chin.  Natasha smirked before signing “Come on, sit normal before Mom sees.”, she gestured dramatically to Laura.   </p><p>Clint snorted into his napkin and Jemma squeezed herself next to Clint on a stool. </p><p>Sure, he could deftly apply a field dressing, knock out a sniper, exist on military rations and without a proper shower, but he did not enjoy it.  He observed his friends around his table.  His family, both of his families starting to blend.  Jemma added another scoop of carrots to his plate and he felt safe.  Clint could only hope that his fellow Avengers would come to feel similarly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lila - 3 and a half years old<br/>Fitz - 8 years old<br/>Jemma - 11 years old<br/>Skye- 14 years old </p><p>The baby is due in about 3 months</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Healing Horses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The kids get to know the Avengers.  Bucky and Bruce experiment with social interactions outside of their usual comfort zones.  Natasha and Laura have a heart to heart and a bit of angst ensues with Bucky.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Go!”  A towel snapped playfully at his prosthetic.  Wanda shooed him away from the sink.  “It is the least I can do.”  </p><p>Bucky backed out of the kitchen, surprised at how relaxed he felt.  The TV was on in the living room, volume low compared to the chattering of children and Steve laughing.  </p><p>Lila colored picture after picture, passing finished pages to Steve and babbling happily.  The super soldier dutifully accepted each one, encouraging the toddler with audible gasps and claps.  </p><p>Bruce sat cross-legged facing Fitz.  He handed various tools to the child and watched with interest at the boy’s formidable engineering skills.  Fitz flapped his hands in frustration.  Bruce leaned over the pile of blender parts.  He handed the boy a hand-tool from his pocket.  Fitz hummed and examined it closely.  Something like hope bloomed in Bucky’s chest as he took in the scene.  </p><p>“Bucky?”  Clint gestured towards the door Skye held open.  “Ready for the grand tour?”  </p><p>Skye shuffled forward signing the name Clint had given the former assassin.  A b-handshape blended with the sign for crochet.  The teenager smirked, repeating the name sign.  </p><p>Bucky confirmed his given name.  “Your Dad thought it suited me.”  He rolled his eyes and offered Skye his half-finished scarf.  </p><p>“Are you a Grandma?”  She asked, exaggerating the sign for old.  </p><p>Clint tapped her arm.  “Well he’s certainly older than most of us.” </p><p>She quirked an eyebrow.  “Too old to learn how to ride?”  </p><p>Bucky looked to Clint, he had not quite caught all of what his daughter signed.  </p><p>Clint’s fingers rapidly spelled out the signs that Bucky had missed.  </p><p>Laughing Bucky nodded.  “Maybe, let’s see what you can teach me.”  </p><p>The trio trekked towards the barn.  Father and daughter signing as they moved through the tall grass.  Bucky had grown up in the city, not accustomed to fresh air.  Although this environment was unfamiliar, it offered a kind of peace he had not known was possible.  A barn cat brushed through his legs and Bucky was struck by a memory.  His sister Rebecca begging his Mother to let the neighborhood stray stay in their apartment.  Although painful, Bucky remained grateful that his memories, James’ experiences, were slowly returning.  </p><p>Horses flicked their tails and stomped impatiently in their stalls.  Skye waved to get his attention, planting herself firmly in his line of sight.  </p><p>“You can ride Winter.  He’s as stubborn as you look.”  She nuzzled the horse’s nose, the animal’s ears twitching in delight.  </p><p>“Barnes.”  Clint voiced.  He casually shifted his body in front of Skye, signing directions while attending completely to the ex-assassin.  “Are you with me?”  </p><p>Bucky’s muscles twitched as he forced himself to take a measured breath.  “Yeah.”  He could control the numbness settling in his fingers.  He wanted to ride the horse, connect with Barton and his daughter.  </p><p>Clint selected a bridle and began showing him how to get Winter ready for a ride.  He interpreted Skye’s directions.  Bucky was dimly aware of Barton’s hands moving, something that sounded like words coming from his mouth.  The teenager screamed.  Bucky’s body slammed into the dirt and he lost consciousness.  </p><p>***</p><p>Natasha closed the door to her room quietly.  “It’s the same.”  She murmured.  Nothing had changed.  Laura’s grandmother’s quilt was carefully smoothed out.  She felt the rows of perfectly stitched squares and let herself scan the framed photos that adorned the walls.  </p><p>“Nat?”  Laura knocked lightly.  “I’ve got tea.”  </p><p>“Oolong?”  </p><p>“With a dash of honey.”  She set the mug on the nightstand and made herself comfortable on the bed.  “I assume your tastes haven’t changed.”  </p><p>Natasha eased her friend’s shoes off, eliciting sighs of relief from Laura.  </p><p>“How are you feeling?”  </p><p>“I should be asking you that.”  Natasha retorted, scooting herself towards a pillow at the head of the bed.  </p><p>Laura scoffed.  “Don’t sass me.”  She held her bump, turning on her side to face Natasha.  </p><p> </p><p>She was so tired, she could barely resist curling into the safe space next to Laura.  “I’m fine.”  The words left her mouth automatically.  </p><p>“Love, don’t lie to me.”  Laura squeezed her hand.  “Clint told me.”  </p><p>“Bastard.”  </p><p>“True, but he was right to tell me.  Come on.  When did it get bad again?”  </p><p>Unable to organize her words, Nat let her head fall into the space against Laura’s neck.  </p><p>The widow let herself be held, she let herself be cared for, she made the choice to be loved.  </p><p>Closing her eyes, she addressed the mattress.  “They put a tube in…I…”  She bit her lip, drawing blood.  </p><p>Laura rocked her, mothering instincts heightened thanks to the gallons of hormones pregnancy had gifted her.  Clint had told her what had occurred over the last couple of weeks.  How he and Bucky had fought to nourish her, prevent her from hurting herself, and restrained her when necessary.  Laura tried to get her husband to bring her to the farm, but Natasha had refused.  She had not wanted the kids to see her relapsing.  </p><p>Laura cupped Nat’s chin.  “The tea’s gonna get cold.”  </p><p>Her friend helped her sit up.  She curled up against the headboard, balancing the mug effortlessly on her knees.  </p><p>“God, what I would give to see my knees again.”  Laura teased, handing Natasha a protein bar.  </p><p>Fear flickered through her features.  She took the bar and slowly peeled the wrapper.  Each bite required monumental effort.  </p><p>Laura pretended not to notice Nat’s struggle.  She silently gave thanks and tried to follow along with what her friend was talking about.  </p><p> ***</p><p>“Thanks.”  He smiled at the screwdriver the boy had placed in his hand.  </p><p>Fitz stepped over the newly assembled blender.  He hummed and latched one hand on to Banner’s wrist.  </p><p>Startled Bruce turned to where Jemma was sitting at the miniature craft table.  “He probably wants to show you his room.”  His sister supplied.  She signed to Fitz and the boy tugged on Banner’s wrist with both hands, trying to his full body weight to propel the grown man to his feet.  </p><p>“Okay buddy.”  Banner let his curiosity dictate his actions.  He remained concerned for the child’s safety, but Fitz didn’t fear him.  Most adults did.  Hell, he was scared of himself.  </p><p>Wanda’s phone pinged repeatedly.  She frowned, holding it just out of Lila’s reach.  “Steve!”  She stood, the toddler attaching herself to her leg.  “It’s Bucky.”  </p><p>“Where?”  He was out the door in seconds.  </p><p>She shouted.  “Barn, they went to see the horses.”  Her words chased the super soldier’s back. Her hands glowed at her sides, her fear sparking her magic.  Wanda pulled her sleeves over her fingers and turned to the children.  “Let’s find something to watch okay?”  </p><p>Together she and Bruce wrangled the Barton kids in front of the television.  The scientist navigated the complicated series of menus before accessing the movie library of a popular streaming service.  Lila settled herself in the little witch’s lap, playing with her hair, her thumb firmly in her mouth. </p><p>Jemma spread a blanket over Bruce and her brother.  “He really likes WALL-E”  </p><p>“Your Dad likes that one too.”  </p><p>Fitz pointed at the screen as the film began.  “Yeah, he introduced Dad to it.”  Jemma smiled and curled closer to her brother.  </p><p>Wanda cuddled the toddler “Your Daddy will be back soon, okay?”  </p><p>Bruce studied the younger Avenger’s mannerisms.  She interacted with children naturally, she appeared much more at ease around Barton’s family than the people at Stark’s Tower.  He could learn from her, learn how to be a person.  </p><p>***</p><p>Barton knelt over his friend’s seizing body.  “Easy man, it’s gonna be alright.”  Skye crawled over, her hands signing shakily.  </p><p>Captain America appeared.  “Barton, what happened?”  His hands ran over Bucky, angling his head towards the ground in an effort to preserve his airway if he vomited.  A moan escaped from his friend’s clenched jaw as his eyes rolled back in his head.    </p><p>Clint explained, taking advantage of the additional pair of literal hands to rock back on his heels.  He began signing to his daughter.  “He’s okay.  We are okay.  He had a seizure.  It happens sometimes, he just needs to rest.”  </p><p>Skye bit her lip.  “Did I do it?”  She picked at the skin on her thumb, an old habit resurfacing from childhood.  </p><p>“No.  it’s not your fault.”  Clint voiced the sentence again, holding Skye to his chest.  </p><p>The seizure slowed.  Steve adjusted the sweater he had wedged under Bucky’s head to lessen the impact of his skull striking the floor of the barn.  Horses whinnied and stamped in their stalls.  Barton’s oldest daughter peeked at Rogers curiously.  “What does he need?”  She signed.  </p><p>“He needs rest.”  Barton signed, looking at Steve when voiced Skye’s question.  </p><p>Bucky groaned and cracked his eyes open.  “Stevie?”  </p><p>“Here Buck.  It’s okay.”  He eased his partner into a sitting position.  Bucky’s head hung between his shoulders, muscles twitching.  He spit in the dirt, the sudden change in position triggering nausea.  </p><p>Steve and Clint exchanged glances.  The Archer had witnessed enough of Bucky’s seizures to know that the nausea could mean a cluster attack.  More seizures, spaced further apart.  A barn was not an ideal place for a neurological storm.  </p><p>“Wanna go lay down Buck?”  Steve rubbed circles into Bucky’s back.  “Barton and I will get you back to the house.”  </p><p>“Barton.”  He echoed, struggling to get the word out correctly.  “Barton’s house.”  </p><p>“That’s right bud.”  Clint pulled the ex-assassin’s flesh arm around his neck as Steve lugged his metal prosthetic around his own.  They man-handled the super soldier down the dark path, Skye trailing behind them.  </p><p>Wanda met them in the doorway, her magic gently lifting Bucky from between the Avengers.  She placed him on the worn couch, sharply inhaling when he began seizing again.  </p><p>“Come on guys.”  Clint signed to his kids, after handing Lila to Wanda.  Fitz pulled his father up the stairs.  “Time for bed.”  </p><p>Jemma scurried after Wanda and her sibling, starting at the mountain of a man quaking in the family’s living room. </p><p>“Bruce.”  Without lifting his eyes from his watch, he beckoned the scientist.  “Grab the med-kit.  It’s getting to be the time for rescue meds.”  </p><p>He knelt by Rogers, dumping the contents of the bag all over the rug.  He sifted through band-aids, gloves and prescriptions.  “How much?”  He asked, locating a bottle prescribed to one James Buchanan Barnes.  </p><p>“Just one.  Under the tongue.”  Steve grasped his partner’s head gently, moving with the seizure’s rhythms.  “It’ll dissolve.”  </p><p>What seemed like hours later, the storm ceased.  Bucky groaned and shivered as he came to consciousness.  His clothes were soaked with sweat.  Soft.  He wasn’t in the barn.  There were horses.  Steve?   </p><p>“Hey buddy.”  Steve smiled.  “You with us?”  Bruce waved awkwardly from his place at Bucky’s feet.  </p><p>“Mmm.”  He muttered.  “Stevie.”  </p><p>“Here.  We’re at Barton’s farm, it’s okay.  We’re safe.”  </p><p>Bucky nodded, his eyes closing.  The drugs, they must have given him the rescue meds.  Damn, those always made him sleep.  </p><p>“Sleep Buck, we’ve got your back.”  </p><p>They did.  Bucky let go of consciousness, to the comforting touch of his partner carding a hand lovingly through his hair.  </p><p>***<br/>“Laur?”  He whispered.  </p><p>His wife stirred, turning her heads towards the voice.  “Hmm.”  </p><p>“Kids are down.”  </p><p>“All of them?”  She questioned, struggling to extract herself from Natasha’s arms.  “Thanks honey.”  </p><p>“You tell me.”  He joked, pressing a hand to her protruding stomach.  “How is she?”  </p><p>“She finished the tea, granola bar and most of a nutrition shake.”  </p><p>Clint perched on the edge of the mattress.  Natasha rarely slept this hard, her body was truly struggling.  Her face twitched, a symptom of a nightmare.  </p><p>Laura pulled a bandana from the nightstand and passed it to her husband.  “Nat asked for this, she said she couldn’t sleep without…”  </p><p>Clint smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric.  “Bucky and I have been restraining her nightly.  She begged us for handcuffs any time she started dozing off.”  </p><p>“Did you?”  She asked.  </p><p>Clint shook his head, voice thick with emotion.  “Sometimes.  Sometimes we held her hands tightly between our own.  We just tried to keep her safe.”  </p><p>“Stay with her tonight.”  Laura exerted the effort to stand.  “Wanda filled me in, the others will stay with Barnes, right?”  </p><p>“Yeah.  They are downstairs.”  Clint looked at his wife.  “You’re sure?”  </p><p>Laura pulled the quilt over Natasha’s shoulder.  “Of course.  How confused would you be if you woke up in a place you haven’t been to in forever?  My guess, is she’ll be super confused.  Maybe agitated.”  Her hand brushed her bump protectively.  </p><p>Laura kissed his forehead.  “I’ll check in on Wanda and the kids.  Then a pot of coffee.”  </p><p>“Bless you.”  Clint sighed, stretching out of the bed next to his best friend.  “I am so lucky.”  He winked at his wife.</p><p>“Yes.  You are.”  Laura flicked off the light and padded down the hall.  Her footsteps echoed, her weight triggering familiar creaks in the hand cut floors he had re-furbished years ago.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Somewhere a Clock is Ticking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hi friends! Prepare for some Natasha flashbacks.  There are direct references to sexual abuse at the hands of the Red Room.  It is non-graphic, but very obvious.  There is a time jump of about a week, we find the Avengers still on the Barton farm.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nearly a week passed at the Barton farm.  Clint flipped another pancake onto the serving plate.  The sun had barely risen, so he had his usual suspects at the table.  Bucky had accompanied him with chores in and around the barn.   He was currently fixing Steve a cup of coffee.  Rogers was happily running along his property exercising his super solider body.  Bucky remained adamant that he’d had enough exercise for a lifetime and only engaged when team training mandated he participate.  <br/>Clint poured more batter on to the griddle and turned his attention to the living room.  Natasha had curled herself in the glider rocker, her head laying against her drawn up legs.  Sleep had managed to elude both of them.  </p><p>His pancakes needed a couple more seconds before flipping, so he gently covered her with a throw.  </p><p>“Thank you.”  She signed.  Her eyes faked a level of alertness, but the circles that rimmed them told a different story.  </p><p>“Breakfast will be ready soon.  Do you want more tea?”  He signed, his spatula in the pocket of his apron.  </p><p>She nodded, unfolding herself from the chair.  She drew the blanket around her shoulder like a cloak.  </p><p>“Morning doll.”  Bucky acknowledged, carrying two mugs to the table.  </p><p>Natasha’s nose wrinkled.  “You stink.”  She voiced, selecting a seat near her friend.  </p><p>“Nice to see you too.”  He grumbled, slurping his coffee.  Bucky wordlessly pushed the container of honey towards her.  </p><p>Clint flicked off the burner.  “Pancakes are ready.”  Dramatically he presented the plate to the table.  Bucky flinched as the ceramic hit the surface.  “What service.” </p><p>“I’ll take that as a compliment.”  He bowed, and speared several pancakes on a fork.  </p><p>Barnes pulled a flapjack on to his plate.  “Thanks Barton.”  </p><p>“Without the eye roll.”  The Archer retorted.  </p><p>Natasha nibbled around the edge of a pancake, trying to focus on the smell of her tea.  Madam screamed at her for her stomach rumbling during training.  Food makes you weak.  Rise, Natalia.  Flashes of the nightmare that haunted her the previous night played through her head.  Her body bound by rope, Madam watching the clock.  She knew it was training, Clint labeled it abuse.  </p><p>A hand eased her grip on the fork.  She blinked at the impressions the utensil left on her skin.  She was floating again, barely tethered to reality.  Barnes called it dissociation.  Hands shoved her head in her sick, choking her.  How dare she vomit the food they allowed her to eat.  </p><p>Natasha gagged, mostly bile splashing over the tiles.  She pressed her nails into the grooved floor.  Someone stood over her, a shadow of warmth triggered the Widow’s programming.  “Ready to comply.”  She murmured in Russian, her eyes cast down in expected submission.  Natasha knelt, undoing her handler’s belt.  Her fingers fumbled, acid bitter on her tongue.  Rise, Natalia, rise.  The zipper would not budge.  She started to pull at the fabric, blood pounding in her ears.  </p><p>“Nat.”  </p><p>She blinked.  Her hands were wrapped together, someone holding her wrists lightly.  Confused Natalia opened her mouth, willing herself not to gag.  Rise, Natalia.  Comply unconditionally.  </p><p>“Stop.”  </p><p>She tested the restraint and found the hands released her.  She flew backwards, instinct propelling her away from this unexpected threat.  Her back struck the base of the counter.  Panic consumed her chest.  What did he want?  How would she fail this time?  </p><p>“Natasha.  Can you look around?”  </p><p>An order.  She would comply.  Opening her eyes, she observed her surroundings.  A kitchen.  Homey, a wooden table jutted out in front of her.  A brightly colored sippy cup lay abandoned under a chair.  Kids.  Laura and Clint’s kids.  </p><p>Natasha clamped both hands over her mouth, stifling a shout.  Again.  The realization of her actions dawned on Natasha.  She had treated him like a handler.  Ready to comply.  She dug her nails into her palms, gathering the courage to look at her partner.  </p><p>“Hey Nat.”  Clint wiped a hand under his eyes. His voice sounded wet.  He flicked his eyes to Soldat.  </p><p>Bucky.  He was Bucky, not Soldat.  She was Natasha now.  They had choices in their lives, and people they cared for and loved.  She had agency over her body.  She could choose who touched her and when.  Clint taught her these lessons, over the years they worked as partners at S.H.I.E.L.D.  She absorbed these therapeutic skills like she memorized languages.  Hyperventilating, Natasha grabbed at her throat, digging her nails into her skin.  Although she could rattle off grounding techniques, the execution of said skills in actual times of crisis proved tricky.</p><p>“Real?”  She gasped.  “Is this real?”  </p><p>Clint reached for her.  Natasha flinched violently, anticipating repercussions for her insubordination.  Her partner choked back a sob and retreated.  </p><p>“We’re real Natalia.”  Bucky spoke deliberately, using Russian.  “Tell me what you see.”  </p><p>Blinking Natasha rattled off items in the kitchen.  She spoke flatly, her speech void of emotion.  </p><p>“Good.  Tell me about yourself.”  </p><p>She stared at the ex-asset dumbly.  “I am nothing.  A weapon.”  </p><p>“No.  Nat.”  Clint fidgeted with his wedding band.  “You’re Auntie Nat to my kids.  You’re a terrible cook.  You, hell, you’re my best friend.”  He stopped speaking, on the verge of tears again.  </p><p>She looked at Bucky.  He inhaled, choosing his words carefully.  “Natasha.  You survived.  Everything you are remembering, it’s real.”  </p><p>She suppressed a gag.  Fingers gripped her throat, tore her hair, ripped her skin and utterly broke her.  </p><p>“It happened.”  Bucky continued.  “But it’s over.  Look around Natasha, tell me what’s real.”  His voice demanded attention, but she did not fear him.  </p><p>The smell of butter caught her attention.  A dirty sippy cup of Lila’s lay abandoned on the floor.  Clint’s fluffy slippers stood just out of reach.  Brightly patterned socks clad Bucky’s enormous feet.  Natasha lifted her head.  She barely lifted an arm towards her friend when Barton pulled her into his chest.  </p><p>She let herself melt into his warmth.  “I’m so sorry.”  She whispered.  “Clint, I didn’t, I’m sorry.”  She bunched the fabric of his shirt in her fists.  </p><p>“You’re okay Nat, you’re safe.”  Clint cradled her like he held his own children.  They sat quietly for a moment until Natasha shifted in his arms.  Clearing his throat, he peered down at her.  </p><p>Natasha averted his gaze.  “How can you not hate me?”  Waves of shame washed over her.  </p><p>Clint quirked an eyebrow.  “Seriously Nat.”  He sighed.  “How can you ask me that after Guatemala?”  </p><p>A ghost of a smile tugged at her mouth.  “I did see a lot of your ass that week.”  She tastefully omitted the more accurate truths about that particular mission.  </p><p>“You remember more about it than I do.”  He snorted, ruffling her hair.  He had been delirious with blood loss and fever for most of that mission.  “Ready for tea?”  </p><p>Bucky added another pancake to her plate and plopped a spoon in her mug.  Natasha crossed her legs on the wooden chair and poured a thick layer of syrup on his stack of pancakes.  </p><p>“Rude.”  His knife skimmed the surface of the syrup.  </p><p>“Back at ya pal.”  Natasha stabbed her fork a bit too aggressively at breakfast.  </p><p>“Did I miss something?”  Steve added.  The super soldier gently scratched the Barton’s cat behind the ears.  </p><p>Clint shrugged and handed him a plate.  Bucky patted the empty seat beside him.  “Got your coffee.”  </p><p>“How was your run Rogers?”  Natasha asked, desperate for distraction as she chewed.  </p><p>“Good, I went for 10 since Sam isn’t here to slow me down around mile 8.”  He winked.  </p><p>Bucky shook his head.  “How the hell is that fun for you?”  He shuddered and nudged Natasha under the table.  </p><p>She unfolded her legs, consenting to his giant foot holding hers in place.  Touch could be as grounding for her as it was triggering.  He pressed gently, reminding her that this moment was real.  Her body was real, the kitchen was real, as was her life.  </p><p>Rogers slathered butter on chocolate chip pancakes.  “You could join me.”  He elbowed Bucky jovially.  “But someone likes to sleep in until noon most days.”  </p><p>Bucky grunted, sipping his coffee.  “Blame the meds.”  While he preferred not to take medication for his insomnia, he did admit meds helped with the seizures.  He had not accidentally hurt anyone at the Tower in months.  </p><p>Clint nodded empathetically.  The wooden landing creaked and Natasha shifted in her seat to watch the stairs.  </p><p>“Lila-bug?”  She called, little footsteps bouncing on the steps.  </p><p>“Auntie Nat!”  </p><p>“Careful!  One at a time.  Jemma?  Can you…”  Laura called.  “I’ll get Fitz.”  </p><p>Jemma appeared a moment later behind Lila, who was leading the clan.  The older girl had been awake at least as long as Barton had been making breakfast.  She was completely clean, dressed and awake.  </p><p>Lila launched herself into Natasha’s lap and grabbed her neck.  </p><p>“Easy!”  Clint chided, tickling his youngest daughter’s cheek.  </p><p>Skye stomped down the stairs, startling Bucky.  Jemma turned to her sister and signed.  “Hey!  You scared him, we don’t need him scared.  Remember what happened in the barn?”  </p><p>The teenager rolled her eyes and cracked her knuckles.  Clint signed “Jemma, it’s fine.  Skye, remember how Auntie Nat and I get upset sometimes?  Loud noises can be a trigger for Bucky.  Let’s try to be respectful.”</p><p>Jemma blushed and re-focused her attention on breakfast.  Steve pretended not to notice the girl’s embarrassment.  </p><p>Skye signed “Coffee first, then lecture Dad.”  </p><p>Clint held the pot above her head.  Skye groaned.  “I get it.  Yes, I understand.”  </p><p>Grinning Clint poured his eldest a heaping cup.  The teenager retreated upstairs, presumably to her room.  </p><p>“She looks like you do when I try to get you up before 10 AM.”  Steve commented, threading his fingers through Bucky’s.  </p><p>“Is she upset?”  He asked Barton, feeling slightly ashamed at his reaction to the noise.  </p><p>“Nah.”  Clint fixed a plate for his wife at the counter.  “She’s just like her Dad, doesn’t take direction well before caffeine.”  </p><p>“Speaking of.”  Laura settled Fitz next to his sister before stealing a seat near Natasha.  “How many cups have you had?”  </p><p>Clint blushed.  “Ah, I lost count.”  </p><p>Bucky handed Laura a prepared plate.  “About five.”  </p><p>Laura plucked the mug out of her husband’s hands.  </p><p>“Aw no.”  He whined.  “I need it.”  </p><p>“Your heart does not.”  She sipped at her tea and gestured to the super soldiers.  “You don’t have their super metabolisms.”  </p><p>“Your caffeine tolerance rivals Tony’s.”  Banner commented, trying to smooth down his hair.  “I’d love to study you.”  </p><p>Before he could reply, Fitz dashed over to the scientist and started pulling him towards the living room.  He chuckled.  “Someone has a new best friend.”  Clint directed his son back to the table.  “First breakfast, then whatever you and Bruce want to do.”  </p><p>“Speaking of.”  Steve rose from the table.  “What’s on the agenda for today?”  He and Bucky began collecting dishes.  </p><p>Laura poured Fitz some orange juice and yawned.  “Does anyone want to go into town?  I’ve got to do some shopping for dinner later.”  </p><p>Tony, Pepper and Peter were scheduled to arrive that afternoon.  They planned to do a barbeque if the weather stayed warm.  </p><p>“I’ll go.”  Natasha agreed, her own voice surprising her.  “We can make it a girls’ outing.  I’m sure Wanda would like to go.”  The little witch had not slept well, the furniture in her room lifting and crashing in time with her nightmares.  Her room was quiet for the moment, which hopefully meant the girl was resting.  </p><p>“You’re sure?”  Clint asked, taking Lila in his arms.  </p><p>She nodded, forcing a smile.  “I’ve got to learn how to food shop if Laura’s going to teach me how to cook.”  </p><p>Bucky sniggered and Steve lightly smacked his arm.  </p><p>“Anyone else want to go?”  </p><p>“Skye’s going to teach me some tricks today, if that’s alright.”  Bucky looked to Steve for permission.  </p><p>“Sounds great.”  He squeezed Bucky’s leg.  “Can I help you out with anything around here Barton?”  </p><p>Clint mentally scanned his to-do list.  “Always.”  He sighed.  “You might regret asking me that.  Bruce are you okay hanging with Fitz and Lila?  Jemma’s got a project for school.”  </p><p>Jemma pouted, but dutifully went about cleaning her plate and retrieving her backpack.  Fitz resumed pulling the scientist towards the front porch.  “Sure, I think we can handle that buddy.”  He asked the boy, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.  </p><p>Bucky stepped in front of Natasha and lifted her plate.  “Nice work.”  He whispered in Russian.  Today was going to be okay.  Natasha allowed herself the thought that the day could have moments that felt something like normal.  </p><p>“Your cat drinks coffee?”  Steve cocked his head at the orange tabby lapping at the liquid.  </p><p>Laura groaned.  “Why can’t anything in our lives be normal?”  </p><p>Natasha patted her friend’s hand.  “Says the adrenaline junkie who married a spy.”  </p><p>Clint peeled a banana thoughtfully.  “She’s got you there.”  He casually chucked the remaining peel in the garbage can across the room.  </p><p>"And an ex-carnie."  Bucky finished, offering him a fist bump.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you are enjoying the time Clint gets with his family.  The last chapter of this should be up in the next couple of days.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Fragile Normal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Here we are!  The final chapter.  We have one instance of a flashback and some angst related to the Red Room, Nat and Bucky's traumatic experiences.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'd toying with some one-shots that relate to this fic.  Do you have any requests related to friendships or scenarios?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p>“What is it?”  Wanda asked Natasha in Polish.  </p><p>Tossing the bag of marshmallows in the shopping cart she tried to educate her mentee.  “Americans love sugar, this one is sickly sweet and has a weird texture.”  </p><p>Laura bumped her cart against theirs.  “Is this enough?”  She gestured towards the piles of veggie and beef burgers and condiments.  </p><p>Wanda’s mouth fell open.  Nat empathized with the little witch’s amazement.  Even with her years of programming and super-human knowledge of cultures around the world, she still found wholesale stores unsettling.  Who needed a twenty-four pack of mammoth sized muffins?  One of those muffins should be able to sustain her for days.  Natasha could accurately identify the caloric value of every item in this store, without blinking an eye.  Despite the pride she had in this particular skill, her stomach contracted annoyingly.  </p><p>“Want some?”  Laura held out a sample of granola.  Her mothering instincts sensing her friend’s hunger, despite Natasha’s resistance to acknowledge her own needs.  </p><p>Wanda hesitated, her fingers glowing faintly.  “Free?”  She looked to Natasha for permission.  </p><p>Laura paused.  “Yeah, it’s how they try to trick us into buying more stuff we don’t need.”  She handed the young woman the cup.  “Which is also why Clint is rarely allowed to come here with me.”  She rubbed her bump.  “The last time we went shopping here we wound up with five extra-large boxes of Lucky Charms.”  </p><p>Wanda looked to Natasha for an explanation.  “Marshmallows disguised as breakfast.”  Wanda nodded and smiled at Laura’s anecdote.  </p><p>“Are you making fun of my American ways again?”  Laura teased, beckoning them to join the queue at the registers.  </p><p>“Only a little.”  Natasha answered, organizing the items on the conveyer belt.  The machine jerked and began to move.  Sparks flew from Wanda’s fisted hands.  </p><p>“It’s okay little witch.”  She soothed.  “Didn’t have these growing up?”  </p><p>“No.”  She answered.  “We went to market, Pietro and I.”  She spoke her brother’s name quietly.  </p><p>“These things freaked me out when Clint brought me over here.”  Natasha remembered her first time going through a metal detector.  The security guard at S.H.I.E.L.D. spent the better part of an hour watching her extract a plethora of weapons from parts of her clothing and body no one would suspect.  Fury himself had watched the scene unfold with amusement.  It was the first time she’d seen Fury crack a smile.  </p><p>“It gets easier.”  Natasha saw a younger version of herself, hopefully a less destructive one in Wanda.  </p><p>Wanda shrugged.  “There’s so much about this life I do not understand.”  </p><p>“I get that.”  Natasha offered half of the cart’s handle to the teenager.  Receipt in hand, they followed Laura towards the exit.  “Um, I could start training you if you want.  When we get back to the city.”  </p><p>Wanda studied her, curiously.  “Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes teach me sparring.  Dr. Banner is showing me how to do the yoga.”  </p><p>Natasha rolled her eyes at Bruce’s meditation practices.  “I know, I just…I could teach you what I wish I’d known after Clint brought me in.”  </p><p>Slowly, Wanda nodded.  She let herself think about what Natasha could help her learn.  Everyone assumed that she knew what a dishwasher was, how to use a credit card and why clothes cost so much money.  She had little reference for modern comforts, and felt intensely uncomfortable among all the nuanced technology in Mr. Stark’s Tower.  </p><p>“We’ll start tomorrow morning.”  Natasha tossed her bag over her shoulder and directed Wanda towards Laura’s minivan.  </p><p>***</p><p>“Whoa.  Again?”  Bucky pulled his hair into a bun on top of his head.  The cool air struck the sweat beading on his forehead and sent a shiver down his spine.  Damn, he was out of shape.  The familiar ache of muscles settled his mind.  Steve may have a point with his endorphins and obsessive exercising.  </p><p>Skye slowed her horse and walked in a wide circle around Barnes.  She signed.  “Again.  First mount your horse, then follow us.”  </p><p>Bucky rubbed his horse’s neck.  “Ready?”  He swung himself onto the saddle.  He tested the reins, pulling Willow into a slow walk behind the teenager and her horse.  </p><p>Skye had communicated Willow’s entire history when they arrived in the barn.  Bucky took his time, asked her to repeat and spell signs often, but eventually came to understand his horse’s sad history.  Barton had rescued Willow from an abusive owner soon after Skye had come to them through the foster care system.  </p><p>“She saved me, Dad realized I felt safer in the barn.  He never punished me for sleeping out here.”  Skye had handed him a brush and patted Willow’s flank affectionately.  “We learned how to be normal again together.”  </p><p>Bucky quirked an eyebrow.  “What’s normal?”   </p><p>The light in the barn flickered on and off.  Skye pulled her horse to an abrupt stop.  Barton and Rogers stood at the entrance to the ring.  Steve waved a sandwich at his partner.  Clint signed to his daughter and she dismounted quickly.  </p><p>“Lunch already?”  Bucky wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.  Willow nuzzled his shirt.  </p><p>Skye waved to catch his attention.  “Dad brings her apples sometimes, she thinks you have one.”  </p><p>“You got one?”  Bucky signed to Barton.  </p><p>Steve tossed him a piece of fruit.  “I understood that sign!”  He clumsily repeated the sign for apple.</p><p>Barton offered him a fist bump.  “Huh, I guess a super soldier can learn new tricks.”  He conversed with his daughter and left the basket of food with the super soldiers.  </p><p>“Who’s this?”  Steve reached a hand towards the horse’s nose.  “Aren’t you sweet?” </p><p>Bucky closed the door to the stall.  “Willow.  She’s old, but strong.”  </p><p>“Stubborn too, huh?”  Steve offered her the apple.  “She’s like someone else I know.”  </p><p>Bucky kicked playfully at the dirt.  “Back at ya pal.”  </p><p>“How is it being here?”  Steve asked.  </p><p>Barnes let Willow lick his fingers, the animal searching for more apple.  “Nice.”  </p><p>Steve scanned his partner for signs of distress, finding none he waited for him to continue.  <br/>“I still look for threats.  This land feels like a trap.”  Willow nudged Bucky’s prosthetic curiously.  “Hell, I still expect to be…”  His speech stopped.  </p><p>“Buck.”  He called softly.  </p><p>He grunted, shaking his head.  “I don’t deserve this freedom.”  He looked at his hands in horror.  “You’re too good for me.  Everyone is…what if I hurt them?”  </p><p>Willow pawed at the floor of her stall.  She whinnied.  “Can I touch you?”  Steve asked.  </p><p>“Okay.”  He felt Steve cup his cheek.  </p><p>“You make your own choices now.  Remember?  We are together now, I’m always gonna be right here.”   </p><p>Bucky exhaled shakily.  “I’m dangerous.  Nat is hurting because of me, because of what I…”  </p><p>Steve swallowed.  Natasha and Bucky had been formed by the Red Room, tortured and broken repeatedly for decades.  He held his partner’s hand tightly.  “Natasha has her own trauma.  Your lives are intertwined, like ours are.  You are doing the work to heal yourself Bucky.  Look at how far you’ve come.  Nat is working too.”  </p><p>“Do you think I can help her?”  </p><p>“Yeah.”  Steve’s heart-rate increased.  “I see how you help her.  Every day.”  </p><p>***</p><p>He recalled a few nights ago when he had woken to an empty space.  He had poked his head into the hallway.  The door to Nat’s room was ajar.  Clint struggled for air, Natasha’s hand crushing his windpipe against a wall.  Shattered picture frames decorated the floor.  Glass crunched underfoot and Bucky’s prosthetic caught his chest, holding him in place.  </p><p>“Wait.”  He growled, standing protectively in front of his partner.  “Natalia, stand down.”  </p><p>“Soldat.”  Her grip on the Archer’s trachea wavered slightly.  “Why?”  Her voice fatally quiet.  </p><p>Steve watched in awe as a version of the man he loved disarmed the Black Widow.  He landed on his back, Natasha’s arms crossed across her body, his legs wrapped around her torso.  She raged against him, trying desperately to stand.  </p><p>“Get Wanda.”  He ordered, straining to restrain his former trainee.  Clint fell to his knees “No, no.”  He rasped “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”  </p><p>Bucky rolled onto his side, his legs straightening to pin Nat’s limbs.  “Steve.”  </p><p>Rogers turned to Barton and held him in a bearhug.  “Take a breath.  It’s okay.”  Clint wheezed, but stopped resisting.  </p><p>“Wanda, it’s alright.”  Bucky panted, he could not continue to hold Natasha and keep her safe.  “I promise, it’s gonna be okay.  You’re not going to hurt her.”  </p><p>Clint coughed weakly.  “Do it.”  He gripped Steve’s forearm.  </p><p>Tendrils of magic spread from Wanda’s fingers and began to wrap themselves around Natasha’s wrists and ankles.  Wanda bit her lip in effort, tightening her hold on the Widow.  </p><p>Bucky released Natasha slowly, and promptly vomited.  Barton dove for Nat, murmuring to her.  </p><p>“Hey.”  Bucky fisted Steve’s pajamas, sobs wracking his body.  “Hey, it’s okay.  She’s okay.  You’re okay.”  </p><p>“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”  He hyperventilated.  His metal prosthetic slammed into the side of his skull.  “No, no, no, no, no, no.”  </p><p>“Buck.”  Steve channeled the serum-given strength to hold the prosthetic in place.  “Bucky, listen to me.”  </p><p>He froze, his chest heaving with panic.  He obeyed the order immediately.  </p><p>“You kept her safe.  Nat is okay because of you.  Clint is okay too.  You’re okay Buck.”  He carefully pulled at the metal fingers until the prosthetic fist opened.  </p><p>“Don’t go.”  Bucky lowered his prosthetic arm to his lap.  “Please.”  </p><p>“Never.”  He kissed Bucky’s sweaty forehead.  “You can’t get rid of me that easily buddy.”  </p><p>***</p><p>“Pinch me Pepper, this can’t be real life.”  Tony boomed.  </p><p>Clint grabbed Tony’s bottom.  “You asked for it.”  </p><p>“Hey!”  Stark protested, rubbing his rear.  </p><p>Pepper high-fived Barton and reached for the serving bowl of salad.  “He deserved that.”  </p><p>Bruce entered the kitchen with Fitz on his hip.  The kid opened and closed a pocket knife while holding onto his shoulder for balance.  </p><p>“Banner?”  Tony gaped, openmouthed at his notoriously shy and introverted friend confidently holding a child.  “Was there another alien invasion I didn’t hear about?”  </p><p>The scientist accepted a hug from Pepper and laughed.  “What?”  Fitz buried his head against Bruce’s neck.  </p><p>“Dude, is that a knife?”  Clint asked.  Skye poked her brother’s nose and handed the pocket-sized blade to her father.  </p><p>“He knew how to use it.”  Bruce blushed.  </p><p>Tony held his phone up and snapped a photo of his friend.  </p><p>Not a moment later, the phone was kicked out of his hand.  Tony blinked.  “What?”  </p><p>Bruce shifted Fitz in his arms, rocking him slightly.  Skye planted herself in front of the scientist, her fists raised in front of her defensively.  </p><p>Clint nodded to Natasha, who began interpreting for the Avengers.  He maintained a couple steps between himself and his oldest daughter, signing carefully.  </p><p>Natasha dispersed the rest of the group.  Jemma directed Bruce and Fitz outside to join Laura at the tables.  Pepper followed with the salad.  </p><p>“Don’t ever take pictures of him.  Pictures are bad.  They’re everywhere, they’ll find us again.”  Tremors distorted her signing.  She blinked back tears.  </p><p>Natasha handed Tony his phone.  “Clint, let me.”  She voiced.  </p><p>He nodded and raked a hand through his hair.  His oldest daughter had endured similar pain to what Natasha had survived for years in the Red Room.  </p><p>“He’ll delete it right now.  I promise.”  Tony unlocked the device and turned the screen towards the girl.  Natasha opened the app and pulled up the picture.  “I don’t like pictures either.  No one is going to hurt you or your brother or sisters again.”  Barton signed Natasha’s speech to his daughter.  </p><p>Tony nodded furiously.  “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve got moves.  Red Junior, I like the sound of that.  Barton have you been letting her train?”  </p><p>“Tony, shut up and grab the burgers from the freezer.”  Clint wrapped an arm around Natasha while tucking Skye’s head under his chin and squeezing.  She signed okay into his chest and he nodded.  They were okay.  </p><p>***</p><p>“Everything okay in there?”  Laura asked, handing the lighter to Bruce.  </p><p>“Yeah, Nat and Clint got it covered.”  Bruce began lighting the candles on the tables.  </p><p>Pepper laid a stack of plates at the end of the table already laden with food.  “Tony did something impulsive.”  She sighed and pulled her straight hair into a ponytail.  </p><p>“He took a picture of Fitz and Mr. Banner.”  Jemma played with a bracelet on her wrist.  “Skye kicked his phone out of his hand.”  </p><p>“Son of a nutcracker.”  Laura swore.  She leaned over the table before straightening suddenly.  “Is Natasha alright?”  </p><p>Steve stiffened with understanding.  Contrary to Tony’s belief he was a naïve prudish man-child, he understood why Skye and Natasha had reacted badly to a picture.  Before he considered Nat part of his family, he had read her S.H.I.E.L.D. profile, well the first few volumes anyway.  </p><p>“I’m gonna go check.”  Laura began to trek back to the porch.  “You guys get the grill started.”  </p><p>Bucky seemed to be fighting an impulse to check on Natasha, but ultimately, he agreed.  “Are we doing cheese on these?”  </p><p>Steve blew out a breath.  “Probably.  You know how Barton feels about dairy.”  </p><p>“To be fair, he feels that intensely about all food.”  </p><p>Bruce laughed, a sound unfamiliar, but pleasant.  “Looks like Fitz takes after him.”  He pointed at the boy stuffing slices of cheese in his pockets.  </p><p>***</p><p>Natasha broke contact first.  Skye wriggled out of her father’s embrace soon after.  She tossed a bag of rolls to Clint.  </p><p>“Honey.”  Laura paused between words, out of breath.  “Are you okay?”  She signed one handed, the other pressed to the small of her back.  </p><p>“Whoa.  Laura, we’re okay.  Take a seat.”  Barton eased his wife into a chair.  </p><p>Skye smiled at Laura.  “I’m okay Mom, I promise.  Auntie Nat and Dad are scarily good at what they do.  I thought Mr. Stark was going to pee his pants.”  </p><p>Laura snorted.  Natasha grabbed her hand impulsively.  Nat rarely initiated physical contact, and hormones be damned, Laura burst into tears.  </p><p>“Oh no.”  Stark groaned.  “Is this what it’s going to be like for the next seven months?”  </p><p>All of the adults froze except Tony, who blinked.  “What?”  </p><p>“Are you serious?”  Natasha gasped.  </p><p>Clint whooped.  “A mini Stark?”  </p><p>Laura laughed through her tears.  “That’s wonderful.”  </p><p>“She’s going to kill me.  Pepper’s going to murder me.”  Tony buried his face in his hands.  “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” </p><p>***</p><p>Natasha took a bite of her veggie burger.  Pepper and Laura chatted about anything and everything related to pregnancy across the table from her.  Bruce was running around the yard, pursued by Lila and Fitz.  They brandished bubble wands and sported grass stains from tumbling around the property.  </p><p>“Did I cook it right?”  Bucky fell into an open chair.  “I don’t know shit about grilling those things.”  </p><p>She wiped a bit of melted cheese from her mouth and offered him her plate.  “You did well.  Do you want a bite?”  </p><p>“Nah.”  He patted his stomach.  “I’m too polite to say no to seconds.  Jemma’s quite the hostess.”  </p><p>“Laura’s teaching her that American Southern hospitality.”  She winked at Barton, who made his way over to the duo.  </p><p>“Nat, your pryanik is incredible.”  Clint burped.  “I’ve had like a dozen.”  </p><p>Steve stuffed another cookie in his mouth and flashed Natasha a thumbs up.  “Please make them again.”  He pleaded.  </p><p>“You baked these?”  Bucky asked, closely examining a cookie.  “You destroyed a pot trying to boil water for pasta.”  </p><p>“True.”  Natasha acknowledged.  “But I had a great teacher this afternoon.”  </p><p>Wanda blushed.  “It is easy.”  </p><p>Bucky and Wanda began conversing in Russian.  Natasha listened to them exchanging recipes and favorite ingredients.  Bruce called for Captain America to rescue him from the barrage of bubbles that the kids were attacking him with.  </p><p>***</p><p>“I’m so proud of you Nat.”  </p><p>She hung her head, an old habit.  “I’m not a kid.”  </p><p>“Correction Romanov, you’re not my kid.”  </p><p>“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”  She looked at her partner, he had aged a bit, but he was happy.  </p><p>“But, you’re my family.”  Clint shoved her lightly with his shoulder.  “Our family.  We love you.”  </p><p>“I know.”  As soon as the words left her mouth she knew it was true.  Their actions told her how much they loved her. </p><p>Her brain flicked through images of her life with her found family.   Laura holding her hair as she detoxed on their bathroom floor.  Clint yelling at Jones for letting her sacrifice herself to break up yet another human trafficking ring.  Lila snuggling against her chest as an infant.  Her heart exploding in a fierce protective love for Barton’s children after they introduced her to Skye.  Clint handing her a cup of tea as soon as she left the bathroom, blood scrubbed clean.  Bucky recognizing her after a seizure, calling her little spider in Russian.  Bruce accepting her stubborn ways after eloping from the med floor.  He patiently stitched her wound on the floor of the kitchen.  </p><p>“Laura and I want you here.”  </p><p>She tilted her head, studying her oldest and most trusted friend.  “I am here.”   </p><p>Clint laughed.  “Smartass.  We want you here, to live permanently with us.”  </p><p>Natasha looked to Laura.  She stood and excused herself from her conversation with Potts.  </p><p>Laura offered her a small box.  “We want you Nat.”  </p><p>“Real?”  She breathed, tears threatening to spill.  </p><p>Clint nodded.  “Real.”  Laura perched on her husband’s lap.  “Your room’s all ready, there’s plenty of tea in the pantry.”  </p><p>“Yes.”  She held stared at the key nestled in tissue paper.  Clint had risked his life for her, time and time again.  Laura welcomed her without judgement for her past lives.  This opportunity, to live in peace, with her family felt appropriate.  Her body hummed with energy, excitement maybe?</p><p>“Good.  We can be commuter buddies.”  Clint rubbed his palms together.  </p><p>Natasha snorted.  “Been there, done that.”  </p><p>“Rude.  You’re under my roof now.”  </p><p>“Pulling rank again Hawkeye?”  </p><p>Laura tugged Natasha to her feet.  “Shall we get another plate?”  </p><p>“Baby is awake again?”  Nat asked, her hand hovering over the ever-expanding curve of her friend’s abdomen.  </p><p>Laura nodded.  “And hungry.”  </p><p>Clint clapped Tony on the back.  “Cravings man, do you have a wholesale membership?  When She was pregnant with Lila we got gallons of kimchi from Costco.”  </p><p>“Auntie Nat up!”  Lila demanded.  Natasha scooped her up.  The child buried her head against her neck and yawned.  </p><p>She was home.  “Clint, time for bed?”  She rocked the toddler.  </p><p>“Fitz is ready too.”  His son tugged on his ears and blinked at her from his position on the Barton’s shoulders.  Jemma and Skye politely said good night to the Avengers.  Skye shyly handed Bucky a scrap of paper with her phone number on it, and hugged him fiercely before running after her sister.  Bucky stood awkwardly, stunned by the teenager’s actions.  </p><p>The girls brushed past them, stomping up the stairs.  Clint laughed and saluted the remaining Avengers relaxing in the yard.  </p><p>“Welcome to the circus.”  Natasha said to herself as she followed her friend into the house.  </p><p>Clint lifted his son off his back and signed to him.  Fitz rushed up the stairs.  <br/>He wrapped an arm around Natasha’s neck.  “Consider yourself unofficially - officially adopted, Natasha Romanov Barton.”</p>
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